Adrenaline & Mortification
by AnneDouglas
Summary: What if a rainstorm had happened at Pemberley? What if Elizabeth had realised a few key things a little earlier? And what if she had been too mortified to face Mr Darcy?


They had not long been touring the grounds of Pemberley when the dark clouds that had been looming so ominously in the distance, descended upon them with great vigour. Elizabeth had felt the first drops upon her wrist when she had reached out to better view a flower. In dismay she called out to her Aunt and Uncle, and they taking note of the sky, hurried over and drew her with them to the front doors just as the rain came down. Elizabeth viewed the weather with anxiety for she had no desire to stay overnight and be seen by Mr Darcy in his own house. Her Aunt attributed her fretting to the desire to view the grounds and patted her hand comfortingly.

"Don't fret Lizzy, tis merely a summer storm. All shall be over in an hour, if I'm not mistaken." She said soothingly and Lizzy smiled at her Aunt. Mrs Reynolds, had been alerted by a footman of the weather, and scurried over, bidding them follow her to the parlour, where she informed them she would call for tea. In the face of her kindness they could not possible refuse, and so she was thanked heartily before she left the parlour. Elizabeth felt a pang of sorrow. Not that she had ever had any desire to be Mistress of Pemberley, but it struck her that Mrs Reynolds was one of the sweetest women she had ever met, and she felt a sense of loss in that she would never be able to become friends with the lady. It also occurred to her that Mrs Reynold's description of Mr Darcy as shy must be true. For was not Jane shy and retiring, but also meekly obliging? She had merely to picture Mr Darcy with Jane's nature and they could have been twins in disposition. Immediately, she felt a sense of horror and anger towards herself for the abominable she had treated him. The words she had said to him in Kent came back to haunt her, and though she might have recovered from such a bout of self-flagellation, she heard the front door opening and heard Mrs Reynolds cry out.

"Why Master Darcy, you are soaked to the skin!" Calls were made for towels and hot water, and she heard him be informed that he had guests. The commotion moved upstairs, and Lizzy felt all her mortification increase. She could not see him, she could not bear to! After the way she had treated him, had rejected him, to come to his house seemed the most audacious thing she could do. Still in her bonnet, she rose hastily and when her Aunt and Uncle turned to her, she came up with the first valid excuse she could find.

"You will excuse, but I need to find the necessary." She said hastily, and they nodded and quietly spoke amongst themselves. Lizzy slipped out of the door and in a moments impulsive decision she made her way to the front entrance and made to slip outside. The attending footmen glanced at her in horror.

"Begging your pardon Miss, but surely you should stay indoors, the weather is only going to get worse." The oldest one said with some concern. Lizzy smiled brightly at him.

"Oh no indeed, I should never dare venture into such rain. I merely intend to stay under the portico, I do enjoy watching a storm from the outside, it always makes me appreciate the house I am sheltering in. I have no intention of being very long outside." It was not wholly a lie, for she was well-known for doing that, but the moment the door had closed behind her, she ran. In flimsy slippers she would have never made it, but in her stout walking boots, she ran like the wind. She knew it would be some time before they noticed her missing, thus she plunged up the hillside and through shrubbery and trees with reckless abandon.

Mr Darcy had had an excellent day thus far. He had made good timing on his ride to Pemberley, had had a lovely dip in the lake, and was jovial about being caught in the rain, although he would have preferred the wind to be warmer than freezing. He was welcomed home by his staff and Mrs Reynolds who flustered around him like a mother hen, and halfway up the stairs informed him that some gentlefolk had come to tour Pemberley and had escaped inside just as the rain came down. In his happy mood he asked if they had been served tea, and what their names were, and was surprised and somewhat elated to discover that one of the party was no other than Miss Elizabeth Bennet. His reaction, though quickly concealed was still evident to Mrs Reynolds and she observed with pleasure the mingled delight and longing on his face that _her_ name evoked. That he took the stairs two at a time after that and hurried to be dressed again in order to join his guests, also did not escape her notice. She smiled to herself and went downstairs to make sure a tea tray was readied.

Mr Darcy hurried through his dressing as quickly as possible, hoping to attend to Miss Bennet before the rain stopped. But getting himself dried and choosing the attire he liked the most took longer than he thought, and it was a full quarter hour before he descended the stairs. Upon entering the parlour he was most disappointed to find only two of three members of the party and neither one Elizabeth. Nonetheless he rallied admirably and introduced himself.

"I had hoped our niece would be here to perform introductions, but she required privacy all of a sudden so it falls unto us. I am Mr Edward Gardiner, and this is my wife, Mrs Madeleine Gardiner." Mr Gardiner replied to Mr Darcy. They exchanged bows and curtsies and Mr Darcy spoke.

"Mrs Gardiner, I can't help but feel I have seen you somewhere before." Mrs Gardiner beamed.

"Why of course Mr Darcy, my mother is Mrs Wilcox, I take after her greatly in figure and face." She replied and the smile on his face brightened.

"Then you are not the daughter of Mr Wilcox, the bookshop owner in Lambton?" He cried, and Mr Gardiner smiled at his wife.

"The very same." She returned, and immediately was swept into a conversation on Lambton as it had stood twenty years ago when they were children. They had been conversing quite pleasantly for a good ten minutes when Mrs Reynolds knocked on the door, and entered with a concerned expression on her face.

"Begging your pardon, but one of the footman just come to me saying that Miss Elizabeth had slipped outside for a breath of fresh air on the portico just after you arrived sir, but he checked outside and couldn't find her." The entire party rose in alarm.

"He couldn't find her! Surely Lizzy wouldn't run away." Mr Gardiner reasoned, but even as he spoke Mrs Gardiner moved to the window, and exclaimed in shock.

"No, Edward look, she has! Unless I am mistaken and you have large white birds running along your drive, Mr Darcy?" There was a rush for the window, and Mr Darcy had the surprise of witnessing the distant figure of his beloved running through the steady rain up Pemberley's drive.

"I must congratulate you both on a very hearty niece, Mr Gardiner, Mrs Gardiner. I have witnessed her personally walking three miles to tend to her sister, but I have never seen anyone run two miles non-stop." He turned away and addressed the housekeeper. "Mrs Reynolds would you see to it that Xerxes is saddled and brought around. I shan't exercise Apollo after such a long journey." She bobbed a curtsey and glided quickly from the room. Mr Gardiner stepped forward.

"I couldn't ask you to run after my niece, sir. Let me do it, I beg you." He said and Mr Darcy shook his head.

"No, I must insist. I fear I am the reason why she has run, and I must make amends personally." He replied, and collected his greatcoat from his valet. Mrs Gardiner shook her head.

"Edward, did she not say this morning that she should feel awkward and ill at ease to be visiting Pemberley?" She said quietly to her spouse, but not quietly enough that Mr Darcy did not overhear. He felt a pang of sorrow that she should have felt awkward about seeing his home, the place which he wished most in the world could be hers too. Edward Gardiner nodded his head.

"Yes, she did, but she seemed to feel less nervous when we were informed the family were away for another day." Mr Darcy could not stand to hear another word, he bowed to the couple and made his way quickly outside to were Xerxes stood proudly. In one swift movement he was mounted and charging down the driveway towards Elizabeth.

Elizabeth, herself, was exhausted. Running two miles was no mean feat, but running two miles in pelting rain and freezing wind was exhausting. The pace she had set at the start had slowed to a jog whilst climbing the hill. It was only five miles to Lambton, and she was relieved to reach the top of the hill at last. At the peak of the hill, she stopped to catch her breath, sweat pooling around her eyes and her pounding heart echoing in her ears. She knew it was foolish but everytime she considered going back she told herself that she just couldn't face him. She walked over to a tree and rested against, catching hard breaths in her oxygen starved lungs. The adrenaline pounding through her system gradually slowed, and she was just looking back at Pemberley when she noticed a horse and rider climbing the hill and gaining on her quickly. A thrill of alarm shot through her, and she turned and plunged into the trees, trying desperately to find a good spot to hide, but in the precious seconds before any rider would crest the hill and spot her, she failed to find even a suitable tree. She heard the sound of pounding hooves behind her and ran around the corner to see a clump of bushes that could easily conceal her. She had just reached them when she heard _his_ voice calling out to her. Unable to stop quickly, she slid past the bushes, and flailed her arms as she ran into the trees, and caught herself on the rough bark of an oak tree in order to stop herself. The impact winded her, and she staggered briefly, her bosom heaving as she drew great lungfuls of air.

"Miss Bennet, are you well?!" Mr Darcy called out, concern written all over his face as he followed her down the small slope to stand in front of her. Lizzy, thoroughly caught out and deeply embarrassed by her behaviour, dropped him an elegant curtsey.

"Mr Darcy." She replied and winded by even that quick phrase caught her breath, and attempted to convey her reasoning. "My apologies. I had not, expected you to- be home so soon. I, I, I." She hesitated and he moved forward to reassure her.

"Miss Bennet, if you do not wish to see me, please be assured that I will only stay long enough to bring back a faithful report to your Aunt and Uncle." Lizzy shook her head.

"It is not that I do not wish to see you, sir." She replied with her head bent, and he drew closer unable to stay away from her.

"Then why run?" Came the question, softly spoken but no less accusing. Elizabeth, unable to look him in the eye, and rather afraid of answering that question, looked anywhere but him and opened her mouth several times to reply but no words came to mind. Mr Darcy looked at her soberly. "Were you perhaps afraid of me? Though I remember you saying that your courage rises with every attempt at intimidation." Elizabeth gave a bitter scornful laugh.

"False words, Mr Darcy, for it has abandoned me. In a foolish moment of panic, sir, I abandoned all reason and logic and decided to run." She raised her head at last, and he could see the shame and the anguish writ all over her face. "I made a mistake, sir, and now knowing what I know, I am come to realise that I have behaved very stupidly."

"How so, Miss Bennet?" Mr Darcy would have been a fool to not have noticed the tears slowly slipping from her eyes. She turned from him again, and spoke softly.

"In judging you, sir." Had he not made a move to listen closely, he would not have caught her words. The admission of a mistake on her part caused something akin to hope to start rising in his chest.

"And yet you are still misjudging me." He replied, and she turned and stared at him, cheeks flushed from exertion, and her bright, beautiful eyes filled with tears. She would never know how much it was costing him to not be able to fold her up in his arms and kiss away those tears. Every fibre in his being urged him to move forward, to make that declaration that had been formally so repulsive to her. Those months in London, before and after Kent had done nothing to lessen his regard for her. So bewitched by her, was he that every brunette woman with curls even remotely like hers had turned his head. Not even the pain of rejection, those stinging words and those cruel barbs had lessened the affection for her. She could not have known that in that moment she had never been so beautiful to him, standing there in the rain with her eyes bright, her hair in disarray, soaked to the skin with the most becoming flush to her cheeks. She cleared her throat and he started.

"How, sir, am I misjudging you still?" She asked.

"You fled from me, from Pemberley. Did you assume you would be unwelcome?" He replied and she scoffed.

"After soundly rejecting you, and using the harshest terms at my disposal, I should think you well within your rights to despise me and to cast me from your home like the veriest fortune hunter! Does it not appear most unseemly for me to appear at your home like the most audacious of flirts? I did not expect you at home or else I should have never called. I would never expect a welcome from any gentleman to whom I had behaved most uncivilly!" Her retort struck him as self-conscious. She had fled because she had not wanted to inconvenience him, had been afraid of him believing her to be the worst sort of woman.

"If you believe that Miss Bennet, you do not know me well at all. You would always be welcome, my conscience, nay my heart would demand it be so! You must think me the most fickle of gentlemen if you believe that my affections would change upon your dismissal of me! They have only grown since last we parted, and they will never stop growing! This I cannot change and even if I had the power to do so, I would not wish it!" Elizabeth started, and stared at him in disbelief.

"Impossible! You would not wish your affections to change from someone unsuitable?"

"You have never been unsuitable. What I said must have mortified you extremely, and thinking back on it mortifies me now that I should have warranted such a reproof. It was a proposal for a woman different than I thought you to be. I flattered myself that you were anticipating my advances, and that you were mercenary. I have never come across a woman of your calibre before and I doubt I should find such another."

"A woman of my calibre? A woman who has scorned you and hurt you and behaved most cruelly towards yourself. This is the woman you wish to have?" She asked incredulously, and he caught her eyes and held them. She half-recognised the expression they held, one of mingled tenderness and something else that she could not explain. It was a mixture of longing and hope and it kindled in his eyes so fiercely that it nearly made her tremble to behold it. The power of speech had deserted her completely as she returned the liquid heat of his gaze. Her retort had been made and had she been looking him in the eye whilst she made it, it would have died on her lips. No stare had ever been so intense to Elizabeth before, it resembled hot coals ready to blaze to life, smouldering so intensely that she had to look away, and yet she was drawn back to his eyes time and time again. She was conscious of his nearness, for if he had stretched his arm out fully his hand could have gripped her waist. She fairly trembled, both from the cold and the intensity of his stare, and the adrenaline that had fuelled her flight surged to life again, filling her limbs with a shaking awareness. He spoke, his voice deepened by longing, for her nearness was affecting him too.

"I have never loved a woman before, Miss Bennet. I have never found beauty such as yours in any woman no matter how handsome she was proclaimed. While I was in London I found my head turned by any woman whose hair resembled yours, whose laugh had the same tone as yours does, and yet every time I turned, I knew it wasn't you. You were never there. I am bewitched, Elizabeth. Thoroughly and utterly bewitched beyond anything I have ever known in my whole life. I begged you once, I would happily beg you a thousand times more if it meant you might even consider me. I am a faithful man and when I give my heart, I can never retract it. No matter where you go in the world, no matter whom you marry, whom you befriend, you will always have my heart, and you can never give it back." He said, and unconsciously drew even closer to her. She had shaken with every word that dropped from his lips.

In that moment, something akin to a revelation struck her, and she knew then and there that she had never truly hated him. The knowledge of his shyness, his concerned attitude towards Mr Bingley, and the knowledge of the heinous event of last summer gave Elizabeth all the information she needed. Proud he might be, but in most cases it was rightfully so. He was shy, painfully so and uneasy with conversation. He was also well aware of the matrimonial target painted on his back by society, and that coupled by his uneasiness in a new society and the near miss with Georgiana had made him unbearably unhappy in Hertfordshire. Here at Pemberley, he was far more relaxed than she had ever seen him, and as she processed his words, she mulled over the slip of her Christian name. He was indirectly asking her again, that she was sure of, and a suitable reply failed to come to her lips. She looked away once and then twice, realising that he was near enough to encircle in his arms, a mere handspan away from her. She did not know how much he wished he could do exactly that. She only knew that he was gazing at her as though she was the most precious possession on Earth. She licked her suddenly dry lips and spoke softly.

"I don't believe I would give it back, even if I could." Her luminous eyes told him exactly what her words could not. Hope blazed in his soul, and when she stubbornly set her chin at him as if daring him to retract his own words, he could stand it no longer. Before he knew what he was doing, his arms encircled her, and nearly crushed her to his body. His lips descended upon her own, and for several long intense minutes, Elizabeth Bennet received her first kiss and felt it seared upon her own soul. Her arms wriggled between her body and his, and when he began to break away fearing he had gone too far, they snaked up around his neck, and he had the delicious satisfaction of feeling her pull him closer. But the intensity of such a kiss coupled with the last few minutes of anxious talk, the swirling emotions and the adrenaline fuelled run had taken their toll on Elizabeth, and she did something she had never done before. As soon as he pulled away from her, she blinked once at him and then swooned. He planted a sweet, tender kiss on her lips and then caught her up in his arms and returned to his horse. He rode gently but urgently back to the house.

Edward and Madeleine had been waiting and watching with some anxiety, and they were relieved to witness Mr Darcy round the corner. That relief turned to panic when they saw Elizabeth lying neatly in his arms. The rain was easing off as he stopped before the door and a bevy descended upon Xerxes and his passengers. Elizabeth was tenderly pulled down and carried upstairs to where a bedroom was made ready for her. Her frantic Aunt and Mrs Reynolds stripped her down to her chemise and bundled her up in blankets. Down below Edward stopped to question Mr Darcy.

"How did she faint?" He asked with all the appropriate fatherly concern. Mr Darcy shrugged his shoulders inelegantly.

"We had just finished talking, when I believe the excitement caught up to her coupled by the ill weather and exertion." Edward nodded distractedly.

"And did you resolve your differences?" He asked, and had he been looking at Mr Darcy's face, he would have noted the contented glow settle around him and the soft smile on his face as he replied.

"Very much to our mutual satisfaction."


End file.
